Helene Tursten - Detective Inspector Huss

Birgitta shook her head and stretched out her hand so she could take a look at the famous night-vision telescope in the flashlight beam. Irene answered for her, “Borg is probably taking an after-dinner nap. And there’s no hope of trying to get Tommy to come out here. He’s in Borås at Agneta’s parents’ house.”

They walked toward the two-meter-high gates of solid iron with inhospitable spikes on top. Fredrik shook the heavy iron bars to test them, but the gate was locked. The fence was just as high, and barbed wire ran along the top between tall iron posts.

After thinking for a moment, Birgitta said, “Irene, you’ve studied the map of this area better than we have. How far is it to the house from here?”

“Almost a kilometer. Close to the fence here are pastures for Sylvia’s horses. A few hundred meters farther along the road-I’d say about five hundred-is the caretaker’s house.”

Birgitta looked around, pondering, and said, “Shorty’s car isn’t parked here, as far as I can see.”

“Are you sure he was coming here?”

“Yes. I followed him up to Holta Church. He turned down toward Tjuvkil and then continued straight ahead. So I turned around and headed down the same road. I saw his lights in front of me. Then I switched mine off. He turned off here toward Kärringnäset. I didn’t dare get too close. If he had stopped he might have heard my engine. So I parked for five minutes, right by the turnoff. When I got here there wasn’t a trace of the Mondeo. He must have had a key to the gate.”

“You said he made a detour over to Örgryte?”

“Yes. I was staked out at his place on Berzeliigatan. Right after five his car came zooming past. I got in my car, or rather the department’s car. Mine is too clunky for tailing anyone. It couldn’t keep up with a souped-up moped! He drove straight out to Långåsliden, jumped out of the car, and knocked on the door. Charlotte opened it. I saw her in the doorway. She let him in. He came out thirteen minutes later. I checked the time.”

Irene said dryly, “Then they hardly had time for a quickie. That’s where he must have gotten the key!”

Fredrik stood stamping impatiently and interrupted them, “We don’t have time to talk right now. Let’s get moving! How are we going to get over the fence?”

Irene thought of a possible solution. She went back to her Saab and opened the trunk. After some clanking and thumping amid all the junk, she found what she was looking for. Triumphantly she turned back to her colleagues.

“How about this-my towrope! Fredrik, you and I will give Birgitta a boost to the top of the fence. We’ll toss up the rope so she can tie it to one of the iron bars, and we can hoist ourselves up. Then we just throw the rope over to the other side.”

Fredrik and Irene placed themselves next to each other so Birgitta could climb up via their knees and shoulders. They tossed up the tow-line and Birgitta tied a good knot, as if she were making fast a sailboat worth millions. The other two rapidly clambered up, climbed carefully over the barbed wire, threw the line over to the other side of the fence, and slid down.

Birgitta asked, “Do we dare turn on our flashlights?”

“It’s probably not dangerous out here. But point them at the ground. By the way, please hand me the telescope, Fredrik.”

Irene strapped on the night-vision telescope. She could see the caretaker’s house; a bit farther away a long, low stable was visible. She saw no activity in the house. There was a light in the stable windows.

“All quiet. We’ll head up the road. It’s easier to walk on,” Irene decided.

They went as fast as they could. With some satisfaction Irene noticed that her two younger colleagues were panting a little when they passed the caretaker’s house. For safety’s sake they had turned off their flashlights. They didn’t see a soul; only the outside light was on.

An icy cold north wind swept over the pastures, but their brisk pace kept them warm. The smell of salt and rotten seaweed was palpable, but there was also a distinct odor of horse manure. The distant roar of the sea and the whine of the wind were all they could hear. They stopped to catch their breath and plan a strategy. Before them loomed something that could have been a towering cliff. But Irene knew that it was the von Knechts’ summer residence, designed by a famous Finnish architect. It was Jonny who had provided that information. He had also told her the architect’s name, but she had forgotten it. Not important.

In a low voice she said, “About a hundred meters straight ahead is the von Knechts’ little summer compound. To get to Henrik’s cabin you have to follow the road to the left, around the big house. To the right the road ends at a small cliff. The sea goes into a little cove down below. So we’ll go to the left. Use your flashlights, since it’s pitch black here, but remember to point the beam down. Stay off the road; walk on the grass and use the bushes for cover. We don’t know if Shorty has gone inside the big house or where he might be. By the way, was he alone in the car?”

Birgitta hesitated with her answer. “I honestly don’t know. His car windows are completely dark. It’s almost impossible to see in.”

“Then we have to keep in mind that he may have had somebody with him in the car. It’s about a hundred meters to Henrik’s place. There are two identical houses right near each other, about thirty meters apart. I’m not sure which one is Henrik’s, but I think Jonny pointed to the one on the right. The one closer to the boat docks. I suggest we spread out and approach the house from three directions. I’m unarmed. Someone with a weapon should take the windows and doors in front. It’s important that we get inside fast.”

As she had expected, Fredrik said briskly, “I’ll take them.”

“Good. Birgitta, you take the side of the house facing the big house and the back. I’ll take the side toward the sea. But we’ll start by checking out the lay of the land. We’ll stop when we get past the big house. Then I’ll look through the telescope and see if there’s anything suspicious around Henrik’s house. Starting now we have to talk as quietly as we can. When we get close to Henrik’s house, we need absolute silence.”

She sensed rather than saw that her two colleagues nodded in the dark. The light from their flashlights was pointed at the ground. They started walking toward the dark house; one by one they moved off the road. Irene felt her shoes sinking into the wet lawn; it was slippery and hard to walk. The splashing and sloshing of their hasty steps was drowned out by the angry slap of the sea against the rocks. The wind was a lot stronger out here on the spit and the roar was deafening. It bit fiercely at their earlobes and made their eyes water.

Irene turned the corner around the end of the big house at a good clip, but stopped short. Birgitta almost ran into her back. Taken by surprise, she snapped, “Yikes! What is it?”

Irene didn’t answer but just pointed. A few meters in front of them a large white car was parked. There was no doubt that it was Shorty’s Ford Mondeo. Irene darted behind the corner of the house and pulled Birgitta with her. She whispered in her ear, “There might be someone sitting in the car. Wait, I’ll see if I can make out anything with the telescope.”

But everything looked calm, with not a movement to be seen. Crouching down, they stole toward the rear of the car. Birgitta pulled open a back door and aimed her pistol inside the vehicle as Irene switched on her flashlight and shone it through the window on the opposite side. Empty. They each gave a sigh of relief.

Irene could just see Fredrik a short distance ahead. She put the telescope to her eye and saw him sneaking rapidly between the low bushes. He hadn’t gone up toward the big house, but instead circled around to approach Henrik’s cabin from the front. A good plan; this way he would have cover from trees and bushes all the way up to the house. It made it easier to use the flashlight. But he had missed the Mondeo. It wasn’t possible for one person to see everything.